


It wasn't supposed to be like this. (Yes, it was)

by EarthGirl3015



Category: Avengers: Infinity War - Fandom, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: 5+1, Alternately titled '3 people i kinda blame and 1 i actually do', But its the gist, Well - Freeform, more 3+1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-21
Updated: 2018-05-21
Packaged: 2019-05-09 20:48:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14723351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EarthGirl3015/pseuds/EarthGirl3015
Summary: So Infinity War sucked.This is my take on the mental states of four individuals. Kind of a character study?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello,  
> OK, so I've only seen Infinity War twice, and while the second time I was looking for specific bits of dialogue, I know I didn't get them all. So if I got something wrong, please don't eviscerate me, just tell me and I'll fix it.

1.  
Apart from his mother, he’d rarely found himself capable of loving a woman. 

Don’t get him wrong, they were fun. He respected them enough to show them a good time, though little things like names were usually lost in the heat of the moment. 

His first time – in a dive bar on some world that was really into techno, his pockets full of Units from a job well done, Yondu’s face creased in an almost proud smile that was quickly hidden by calling out for a round of drinks that smelled like rocket fuel – had been an almost shy encounter. He’d talked up the purple skinned girl with metallic hair and bionic blue eyes, her expression sharply amused as he rambled on about his great lineage, descended from warriors on Terra. He’d just about gotten up the courage – note: downed three glasses of the rocket fuel – to start showing her his awesome Kevin Bacon dance moves, when she huffed, rolled her eyes and grabbed him by the scruff of the neck, hauling him in for a kiss that felt like a wrestling match, all clacked teeth, harsh bites and twisting tongues. His brain shorted out and he felt like he was on the wildest ride of his life, in a spaceship going the speed of light and bouncing around like a quantum asteroid field. Yondu and the crew had raised their glasses and cat-called after him as she’d dragged him up the stairs. He was sixteen.

He had stared a lot. His fingers had shaken, although she’d soon had him put them to good use. He had tried to keep up his suave manner, but her robotic eyes pierced him clearly. She put his mouth to good use too.

And in the morning, she was gone. No name. No intimacy. No nothing.

It set a precedent, is what he’s trying to say.

***

And then, fifteen years and a frustrating item later, there she was, leaning against the wall, eating what amounted to a Xandarian apple, and when he tried to talk her up, as he had perfected over many years and with many women, she grabbed the Orb out of his hands, kicked him in the stomach and was running before he could even blink. He should have been angry, but along the way he’d discovered a healthy respect for anyone who could kick his ass.

 

And then the racoon and the tree got involved. It was a whole thing.

They saved the galaxy, though. With the help of the Ravagers, a space canon and some sick dance moves. Oh and the part where they had all held A FREAKING INFINITY STONE! His new crew was awesome.

And she was the best part. 

***

They killed his father, she sorta made up with her sister – who was also, like, her worst enemy – his true father died to save him and they all tried to hide their tears as they watched the Ravager ships send Yondu on his way. Her hand slipped into his and for one perfect moment he allowed himself to believe that this unspoken thing might turn out really well.

***

And then the distress signal came. The scene they came across was horrific in its brutality. But it seemed there was at least one survivor.

 

OK, so the ‘pirate-angel’ was pissing him off. First Drax had to practically drool over the guy, then Rocket and Mantis joined in and even Gamora – his girlfriend, she had admitted she was – couldn’t resist trailing her hands all over him. With news of Thanos and his insane universe ending plan, his crew’s usual complete and utter disregard for his authority was even more grating, especially in front of the ‘pirate-angel’. He was not sorry to see him go, even if he took his best technician/warrior – note: absolutely batshit-crazy little trash panda – with him. But they had a plan. Well, you know, kind of.

But then she was pulling him aside and keeping important information secret, and telling him that if the worst should happen and no…no, no, no. Why?! After so long without this, without small shy touches that turned into longer touches which turned into the best touches and kisses that made him feel like he was nearing the event horizon of a super massive black hole and waking up next to her and watching her sleep, now the universe just had to remind him that actually, life was a whole pile of bull crap. 

She was asking him to kill her. 

He went to joke. He couldn’t help it, it was his default setting at this point. He couldn’t…he didn’t want to contemplate this. This was not what he was supposed to be doing when he woke up this morning. This was not the direction his life was supposed to take.

She knew him too well.

Her hand covered his mouth, her beautiful eyes met his and,  
“Swear on your mother.”

Crap, she really did know him. When was the last time that had happened?

“OK.”

***

 

He couldn’t look. He couldn’t look at the mangled bodies of his team, his co-pilots, his friends. Whatever Thanos had done, he couldn’t look because he was holding her. She wasn’t fighting! Why wasn’t she fighting?! The Deadliest Woman in the Galaxy, she always fought! It was one of her best qualities! She should have listened to him! She should have gone right!!  
So he blustered and shouted and she said,  
“Not him.”

And “I love you, more than anything.”

Part of his mind was still a small boy who had screamed in agony when his mother had died. He was screaming again.

Not like this. Please, not like this.

“I love you too.” And he pulled the trigger.

 

Bubbles. Fucking bubbles!! And the sickening swell of horror masked the sweet relief he felt; because she wasn’t dead! But then Thanos stepped backwards, and she wasn’t there at all. 

***

 

Titan was a shit heap. Every part of him hated the burnt orange landscape and the decaying empty husks and the sheer silence of it all. It was a memorial to death. And he tried to keep death as far away from him as he could. 

Not that he’d been succeeding lately.

And then the silence was broken and there was a crashing ship and then all that mattered was Gamora and killing Thanos. The two men and the weird…insecty…thing put up a good fight but in the end it all came to a Mexican stand-off that would have blown John Wayne’s mind. Except that they were the Avengers. And friends of the ‘pirate-angel’. God, even when he wasn’t here, that guy messed things up.

OK, so they were the first Terrans he’d seen since he was a kid. Clearly fashion had gotten weird on Terra. And the guy with the weird beard…um, the guy in the metal suit…the older guy without the white in his hair kept trying to be the boss and just started throwing out ideas and when he nearly lost it at Drax’s yawn, he wasn’t sure whether to be happy that his crew wasn’t paying any more attention to this guy than they did to him, or equally frustrated. He just wanted Gamora back. Then they could get in the ship and fly as far away as they could get. Universe ending plots were a bit different from galaxy ending plots. This was clearly above the Guardians’ pay-grade.

Then the magic man got weird. And then they had a plan.

***

It had worked! He felt the sear of triumph in his chest as Thanos struggled, practically helpless against all of their attacks. They were winning!  
Now there was just one little thing.

“Where is Gamora!”

“He grieves.”

“I…had…to.”

The words hit him in the chest harder than any rocket blast. This…this insane…this crazy mother…what!!

“No, you didn’t. No, you didn’t.” He felt his mouth moving but the words were coming from far away. He was floating again but not in the good way. He was untethered, loose, falling away from the world. Gamora! She was gone. He had killed her.

GamoragamoraGAMORAgamoraGamora!!!!!!

His heart broke. 

The boy at the back of his mind shrieked loud enough to deafen everything else.

His gun came up and he fired.

Something was trying to hold him back. The metal man who thought he was a leader.

And then Thanos was free.

***

“Did we just lose?”

***

The universe had never been kind to him. A mother that had died because of brain cancer. Kidnapped by apparent cannibalistic aliens. Wandering the dangerous reaches of space, often alone. Finding out his father was an almighty god who had killed his mother. Killing the bastard. The bitter-sweet realisation that the aliens would never have eaten him and that maybe he had been sorta loved more than he thought. Gamora; found to late, never appreciated as he should have done, the only woman besides his mother he had ever loved. 

So, when Drax and Mantis disintegrated before his eyes, and he looked down and felt himself begin to drift to pieces as well, his mouth said,  
“Oh man,” but his mind said,  
“Of course.”

 

________________________________________________________________

 

2.  
It felt good to have a purpose again.

Wait, was that a correct statement?

He thought back to his time in the hospital. Saving lives, cutting edge surgery, flirting with Christine, the gratitude of crying patients, the antagonism with other doctors he had always considered less than himself…

No, that hadn’t been his purpose. He might have felt like it at the time, like this was all he would ever do, this was all he could ever be. A hitching post for his ego, a place where he could show off his genius and throw it in the faces of those who doubted him or outright scorned him. Oh sure, there was a satisfaction when the patient didn’t die. But it was the notoriety, the fame that he craved, not the simple pleasure of saving lives. His vanity had been quite something. 

But knowing what he knew now, how far the universe stretched, that he could walk among it, that he could change it, that he could protect it…OK, maybe his vanity was still something. But he felt no need to compete with Wong or any of the other Sorcerers. He found he almost enjoyed working with them instead. Magic was a dangerous art – the warnings come after the spells, who had decided that! – and it was good to know that there were people in whom he could trust. Who would even be willing to lend him a helping hand, if he so needed. 

That was…nice. He’d rarely been in a scenario where he could count on his fellow companions not to try and stab him in the back. Even if this new life did mean that he was taunted with nightmares of the Dark Dimension and having spikes thrust through his chest continuously.  
But, aside from his nightmares, he found himself almost content. For all the pain and toil he’d had to go through, he couldn’t find it within him to regret any of the actions that had brought him here. Not even the car crash.  
The Time Stone was a comfortable weight around his neck most days, and the Cloak of Levitation – for all of its weird quirks – was almost an ally in its own right. 

And so when news of Thanos came, he did not hesitate to follow Stark down the ruined streets of Manhattan, even if the man himself reminded him so much of…well, himself. But with more money than even he – a cutting edge neurosurgeon – had ever had.

They stood together against the horrible looking creatures that foretold Earth’s doom, and took over where Stark and Dr Banner fumbled. The battle with…Squidward (damn it, Stark) was unlike anything he’d ever faced before. The telekinesis was difficult to get a handle on, even he couldn’t deny it, and so he took a quick moment, just before Squidward pinned him down, to set a dead man’s curse on the Stone. And then there were metal pipes constricting his airway, and then there was nothing.

 

***

 

There were days that he hated the medical part of his mind. He was hovering in mid air, the Cloak gone, the Stone under siege and he was about to be tortured, with sharp pointy things about to be stuck into his body – again – and yet a part of his mind was fascinated and even begrudgingly admired the crystalline needles that were about to turn him into a pin cushion.

He despaired for his own mind.

He was informed that they had been designed for ‘micro-surgery’. Yes, his mind whirling, trying to think of anything but the needle he could see directly below his eye, coming ever closer, they looked like they would be very good at causing a great deal of cutting in a very small area. There were so many of them. He tried desperately to count them, but then these were only the ones he could see. How many others were there, scattered around his body? 

He couldn’t move. His mind flashed to the last time he had been held so still against his will – his hands still in bandages and held together with frames worthy of a construction site. 

And then the needle brushed his skin.

It was everything he could do to not scream. 

And yet again, while his body attempted to writhe in agony, his mind was calculating. The amount of pressure exerted should slice through his skin…now. But then the needle began to glow. There was no medical precedent for that. 

Distantly he heard a voice. There was someone else here?

Then there was an explosion. And he was ripped from his inertia and almost entirely from the ship. Only a small strand of…something sticky saved him.

 

***

 

He was a child. The man…the boy who had saved him – and the still prideful part of his mind winced in embarrassment at that – was a teenager whose voice probably hadn’t even cracked yet. Why was there a child on this ship?

“Hi, I’m Peter Parker.” His eyes were wide and endearing, like a puppy who was eager to be petted. This was not ideal. In these circumstances, particularly universe ending circumstances, the Time Stone had to be protected at all costs. If there was a fight, he had to be the one that walked away. There could be no place for sentiment. No place for weakness.

“Dr Stephen Strange,” he found himself replying, almost against his will.

“Oh, you’re using your made-up names. OK, then I’m Spiderman.”

…He didn’t know how to reply to that. In all honesty there was a part of his brain that gave a chuckle, even if he had heard that joke about his name numerous times by now. But mostly he was trying to not crack a disbelieving smile at the kid. Spider-man. Who was he kidding? 

But it wasn’t important. The kid couldn’t be important, not now. The Time Stone had the same abilities as the others for destruction, and if used with its own magic it could unravel all of time as had already passed in the universe. He needed to get it somewhere safe.

How he then got talked into continuing the journey to an unknown alien world, to face the biggest danger the universe had ever seen, he might never know. Stark had a point, he supposed, catching Thanos unawares on his own turf might change the game. But he doubted it would be a very victorious one. He would probably be the only one to walk away. No, he had to be the one that walked away. He made sure they knew that and didn’t blame Stark for his look of disgust.

He watched Stark anoint the kid like a knight, heard him say,  
“You’re an Avenger now.”  
Peter’s face lit up with excitement, and he stood up straight.

A voice at the back of his head whispered ‘He’s going to die’.

He tried to ignore it.

 

***

 

He had the impression of a planet whose soil resembled corroded iron, and gigantic empty shells of some kind of dwellings before the alien ship crash-landed and the three of them were thrown all over the place. Thankfully the Cloak spared him any broken bones, and Peter…the kid managed to use his webs to keep himself safe. Stark wasn’t so lucky.

Then there was a loud crash and suddenly they were under attack. The Cloak sprung into action, attacking a large muscular blue alien with what looked like ceremonial markings carved into his body, while Peter…the kid faced off against a vaguely feminine looking being with antennae. Another person – alien(?) – with a robotic looking face started shooting at both him and Stark and so the battle was on. 

Finally, the person with the robotic face – it turned out to be a mask – made a comment that only made sense if he was from Earth. In a rather embarrassing turn of events it turned out this other group of people – they called themselves the ‘Guardians of the Galaxy’…and people thought his name was ostentatious – were also here to fight and kill Thanos.

His mind didn’t like it. Too many variables, too many unknown elements. He walked a little away from the group, as they started talking – or was it bantering – amongst themselves. He sat in the lotus position – something he remembered making fun of Christine for when she went through a yoga phase – and reached for the power of the Time Stone.

 

A large purple being with a metallic glove which held glowing embers stood before him – Thanos. Stark flew at him, ready for an attack. Thanos battered him away like he was nothing, used the red ember to render everything around him to dust and then reached out and plucked the Stone from around his neck, as if picking a most delicate flower. Then darkness followed.

The human man shot at the Titan, he died, Thanos obliterated them all and took the Stone.

Peter shot a web, he died, Thanos obliterated them all and took the Stone.

Stark shot a repulse blast, he died, Thanos obliterated them all and took the Stone.

The woman – Mantis – tried to make him sleep. Thanos crushed her body like glass, obliterated them all and took the Stone.

Over and over, the blood spilled onto the umber ground of Titan. Over and over, they all died. There were flashes of blue and metal, another woman joined the fray, assuming they lived long enough to see her arrive. Thanos never bothered to touch her. He heard  
“Waste of parts,” shouted. 

Every time he took the Stone. Until…

“How many did we win?”

“One.”

***

 

It was almost peaceful. The waiting. 

There had been no waiting with Dormammu. There had been fear, and confusion, and a general amount of running around. 

To sit and wait on the warm rocks of a dead world, knowing that this was the only way, that they would do everything they could, in this moment; there was something heartening about that. This was what his life had been leading to. This was his choice. This was his purpose.

And so he sat, the Cloak a bright blood red in the burnt orange, not hiding, just sitting calmly and waiting for his end.

It came in a flash of blue.

***

 

Stark…Tony was dying. The doctor in him knew that no human can survive being impaled like that. And for all his tech, for all his smarts, Tony was human. He had never looked it more than in that moment. 

So he called for Thanos to spare him. What was one human life compared to the purple monster’s ultimate goal anyway? And in return, he broke his oath. He had seen it, he knew, it was the only way. 

The blue man and the woman with antennae disintegrated. The human man’s disintegration took a little longer but he disappeared too. Tony’s eyes stood disbelieving. 

Strange took a deep breath and let himself feel. He didn’t need to look down. He knew it was coming. And yet the voice at the back of his head that sounded like Wong – the one that flared up whenever he set a sandwich too close to an ancient book – was extremely upset. He only hoped that he would be able to make it up to him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have never tried to write Thor. So I settled for long sentences and no contractions. Let me know if it works?

3.  
As he felt his brother’s cold dead body begin to drift away from him – he did not have the strength, the energy, the will to hold him anymore – he tried to remember a time when he had been content. It was harder than he had thought. His world, and not only his – Loki’s too – had been turned upside down the day of his ‘almost’ coronation. What should have been a joyous day had ended in his banishment for his childish anger and Loki’s discovery of his true heritage. From there, he had more or less been reacting. No clear plan. No obvious path to follow.

Jane had been a welcome distraction, a moment of peace in a sea of blood and fear and disappointment. But even she had decided to leave him, in the end.

Mother – gone, stabbed by a Dark Elf for refusing to answer his questions.

Father – gone, a man who had loomed so large in his childhood, had fallen so low in his old age. He tried to keep any bitterness from his thoughts. That too, was harder than he had thought it should have been.

His childhood friends – Volstagg, Hogun and Fandral, all lost to Hela’s swords, his companions in arms, his shield brothers, all with families and homes of their own, all gone. Was Sif safe? He knew not. He did not remember her in the Ark. He could only hope she had not been on Asgard.

Hela herself – another monstrous secret his father had kept hidden away. There was a small part of him that wished he could have known her, if only a little, for surely there had been more to her than death? Then again she’d put out his eye, so he wasn’t feeling particularly charitable even to her memory.

Asgard – the home of his forebears, the greatest land that had ever existed, his home, all gone.

And then Heimdall. And then Loki. And half of his remaining people. Would any of Asgard survive this day? At least Banner was safe.

The cold vacuum of space sucked the last of his strength, as he gave into his pain and his fear and his sadness.

Then something hit him. 

 

***

 

The spaceship was not outfitted as one from the Nine Realms. Nor did its owners; the green woman, the blue man, the being with antennae, the fuzzy creature – he vaguely remembered seeing them while on Midgard – and the tree, had all clearly come from far past Yggdrasil’s branches. Aside, perhaps, from the man who seemed of Midgard.

But they had oxygen. And food. And they did not appear ready to attack him this very moment. It was enough to ingratiate them to him.

They offered him a blanket, and the green woman explained her knowledge of the Titan’s plan. He felt a stirring of anger – since he had awoken, his pain had been pushed to the back of his mind, only rage reined supreme in him at this moment – at her being identified as his daughter, but reminded himself that Loki, for true, had been no Frost Giant, and this woman clearly did not appreciate being named as any relative to the monster who wished to destroy half the universe. He understood. Family was not always what we wished it. He explained as much to her. The Midgardian man, apparently intimidated by him – in such a manner that he would have found it amusing had he been in his right mind – attempted to feebly contest with him over who had endured more heartbreak. He did not bother to correct the man; he no doubt had no basis for comparison and could not understand the empty feeling that was close to crippling his mind and body. He had no wish to place this burden upon even his most hated enemy.

He searched his mind for strategy and weapons to defeat the Titan; this was his area of expertise. He could almost hear Loki stifle a laugh at that. Pain rippled through him for a moment at the memory of his brother’s red face and horrific last expression, but then he remembered: Nidavellir! And Eitri! His old friend would surely have the weapon necessary for killing this monster.   
He announced his plan and his intentions, while idly flipping through the ship’s cabin, looking for more food. He could not remember the last time he had eaten. The fuzzy creature – a rabbit? – was most intrigued by his proposition and wished to come along with him. He saw the Midgardian man’s face contract in annoyance and that part of him that still remembered how to laugh and wished for company answered the rabbit in the affirmative, happy to have found a new companion to face this challenge with. The tree, although distracted, appeared to be a long-time companion of the rabbit and came along with little encouragement. Offering a cheerful farewell to his saviours, he was at last ready to face this new challenge: bringing about an end to the Mad Titan.

***

The rabbit was…well, gentle was not the word, but kind in his attempts to comfort him as they approached Nidavellir. He attempted to brush it off with his usual bluster, but he felt the illusion wearing thin. It was easily picked up upon by the rabbit, it seemed.

“And what if you’re wrong?”

“Well, then what else does he have left to take from me?” It came bursting from the jagged place in his mind where his pain had been hastily hidden. There. The universe knew now. He had lost all that mattered, all that cared for him and he was tired and almost worn to the bone. If killing Thanos would give him some semblance of piece, then he would do it. It needed to be done. Why shouldn’t he be the one to do it?

The rabbit did not look convinced.

He did, however, give him a new eye.

It was a solidifying moment in their friendship. 

 

***

To see the forges of Nidavellir cold caused a feeling akin to a heavy stone sinking into his gut to pass through him. The forges had not been dark in centuries. They could not have failed now, not when he needed them most.

Inside they found the scattered remains of the once great forging rings, and poor Eitri, his hands disfigured and his honour bereft, having cast metal for the Mad Titan and paid the price. At any other time, he might have been angered, enraged, but he simply could not find it within him to care that an old friend had again betrayed him. He set his mind to the task at hand. The forges needed to be relit, so that life could be given to Stormbreaker. So be it.

 

***

He had carried the weight of Mjolnir, a constant comforting weight at his side, and he had carried the title of Prince, often disappointing and confusing those he was to rule, and he now carried all of the hope of the universe on his shoulders.  
Taking the heat of a sun should be easy compared to that.

It was not.

He could feel his skin burning, even in the cold of vacuum. He was only glad he faced away from it; his new eye and his old one may have melted in the extreme heat. Once again, he felt his great strength sap away from him. He tried to hold on to the anger, the hatred, even the pain, drawing up the faces of all he had loved who were now gone to keep himself rooted,  
“Just a little more, boy, just a little longer.”

He could not.

He fell.

His body was in agony.

His heart was broken.

His mind wished to collapse in on itself.

He could hear Eitri scrambling around, calling, but it was faint. At the very edge of his conscious mind. 

And then there was a cry, such as a child might make. But it was a cry of triumph.

The power of the lighting, the power his father had neutered so long ago, coursed through him once more. He reached out his hand, and Stormbreaker came.

***

 

Materialising into the middle of a battlefield should not have felt like a homecoming, but the Midgardian air was pure, if scented with blood, and it was a planet he cared for and held people he knew, for now, and there was a battle to be fought.

He had kept his rage and his hatred at a simmer in the back of his mind and now he brought it up to a full boil. Stormbreaker sent out strikes of lightning and cracked the ground when he swung, bringing the animalistic foes to their knees.

“Bring me Thanos!!” He cried as he swung into the fray, the rabbit and the tree following swiftly behind.

 

***

It was chaos, but it was a chaos he knew. And, more to the point, a chaos he had unleashed. Stormbreaker’s blows broke enemy lines whichever way he swung, his lightning coursing through hundreds of enemies and littering the ground with their broken bodies. He felt alive. He felt strong. He even felt a little joy.

“New haircut?” It was Steve Rogers, the only Midgardian he considered close to a shield brother. He almost laughed and replied in kind,

“I see you’ve copied my beard.”

He pointed out his new allies. Watching Steve Rogers trying to speak to the tree was nothing short of hilarious, and he looked forward to witnessing more of their interactions, once he had buried Stormbreaker in Thanos’ chest. 

He focussed his attention on the ships that the Children of Thanos had brought down to Midgard and reached for his lightning. This was going to be fun.

 

***

Thanos was here.

What noises there had been of wildlife had ceased. 

Even the battle had lost its intensity. 

All eyes seemed drawn to a patch of trees at the base of a cliff. 

He couldn’t see.

He flew higher.

His hearing picked up on scuffling. Many feet running in that direction. And the sounds of bodies hitting the ground.

His heart clenched. In his pain, he had forgotten how much he loved this world, how strong its people, how he wished to protect them. Thanos had something else to take after all.

He would not get the chance.

Higher, he could not see above the trees.

And then an explosion of some sort rippled the trees and he heard a voice lifted high in mourning. 

It was the witch who could throw red magic, the new one. Or at least she had been new to the team the last time he was here. Looking down he saw her gazing into empty space and tears slipping down her cheeks.

Thanos stood behind her, his gauntlet shining with five bright lights.

This was the moment! This was why he was here! And yet his arm felt leaden. 

He watched in horror as Thanos activated the green light and turned his wrist.

And he understood why the witch had cried out. Vision flew back together, the Stone in his forehead perfectly visible. 

Now, throw Stormbreaker now.

But it was as if he were paralysed. He watched helplessly as Thanos crushed the Stone out of Vision’s forehead and placed it on his gauntlet. His entire body seemed to light up with the colours of the Stones. But it was the smirk. The small, self-satisfied smirk that had him winding up his arm and allowed Stormbreaker to leave his hand.

It caught Thanos straight in the chest.

He landed and stalked forward, allowing himself to feel the relief, the release of anger. His people were avenged. The universe was saved.

“I told you, you’d die for that.” And he thrust it in further, just to prove his point.

“You…you should have aimed for the head.”

And again, he was frozen, as Thanos’ fingers brought the universe to an end.

 

***

 

There must have been a flash. A moment of disorientation. One moment the gauntlet was whole, the six Stones shining brightly. The next the gauntlet was steaming, almost corroded and there was a breathlessness on the air, a feeling as though the universe was holding its breath.

“What did you do?” he demanded, a crippling fear constricting his heart.

Thanos activated the Stone that had been held within the Tesseract and disappeared.

Strombeaker, useless now, fell to the ground, one half of its blade ashen.

And then the slaughter began.

 

***

 

He had never seen death be so peaceful in her collection.

“Steve?” was all the man with the metal arm could say before he fell into ash.

Steve Rogers…there were no words for the expression on his face.

The man in the black suit disintegrated while offering a hand to the warrior woman. Her look of horror broke his heart.

The witch looked almost peaceful as she vanished, as though she was happy to go, or at least did not fear it. He envied her, almost.

The rabbit was crying. He almost did not wish to look, and indeed his heart broke anew to see the little tree, so strong while looking so feeble, who had gifted him part of his own body in Stormbreaker’s creation, was slowly crumbling away before his eyes.

“I am…Groot.” He managed before his bright little eyes were gone forever. 

“Dad,” he translated in his head. He swayed on his feet, feeling the pain and sorrow and horror of what he had just witnessed. Those that still stood huddled together, some calling out, most crying but he could not hold it back anymore.

He turned his head skyward and let his grief consume him.

 

________________________________________________________________

 

+1.  
It had been a mixed day.

He’d won all six Stones and completed his mission. 

But he had lost one of his most precious daughters to do it.

Still, the universe was balanced now. They’d thank him for it. One day.

Thanos sighed, ignoring the pain in his left arm, and sat down in his paradise and smiled on a grateful universe.

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think.


End file.
